Death By Falafel

They say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Does that count for sandwiches?

This is the story of the two falafel balls in Haifa that didn’t kill me but changed the way I see the world.

I was on a student trip to Israel, a two-week whirlwind of activities religious and secular, run by one of those organizations hoping to connect Jewish people with their heritage. A week in, I was not connecting. A Shabbos in Tsfat with mystically minded Chassidim was an interesting anthropological experience, a visit to the Western Wall impressed me with the size of the stone blocks, the land was often beautiful, but then, so was much of America.

Each night, I and my steady hotel roommates – a round-faced kid from Massapequa, Long Island, and a cynical Russian with mirthful eyes – would discuss what we’d seen or learned that day. Massapequa took everything to heart (“How cool is it that 39 missiles hit Israel in the Gulf War and that’s the same amount of lashes a person gets when he’s punished?”). The Russian believed in nothing (“The sea parting was a just nice strong wind, like we get off the Volga”). I remained removed, and unmoved.

On the way to visit a military base near the Lebanon border, we stopped in Haifa and were told to be back on the bus in half an hour. I bought a falafel sandwich from a sidewalk vendor, and brushed a fellow student as I turned back to the bus. Two falafel balls fell out of my pita. Instantly I sized up the situation – only three falafel balls left, meaning 40% of the main part of the meal was gone. Having gone through a bunch of times in college and backpacking making food stretch till who knows when, I seriously considered picking them up before the five-second rule kicked in. But it was a sidewalk, after all, not a kitchen floor, and people were watching, and I didn’t want to be known for the rest of the trip as that guy who ate falafel balls off the ground. So I gave them one doleful look, then turned and walked to the bus, eating the food in hand.

That night, I had the worst stomach pains of my life. These were soon accompanied by several horrible, and decidedly more visible, symptoms that I won’t describe, out of discretion and because reliving them is still traumatic. My roommates at the cut-rate hotel we stayed in that night turned philosophical in the face of my suffering. Massapequa recalled a lecture we’d heard earlier, about something called hashgachah pratis, divine providence, the idea that everything happens for a reason. “Maybe you got sick because some day you’re going to meet a man who’s even sicker and you can sympathize,” he suggested helpfully.

Neither possibility did much for me. I was too busy wondering how long I could remain on that one spot on the floor when the room was spinning so fast. At midnight, the guys woke up our tour leader, who groggily asked what was the last thing I ate. I must have croaked out an answer, because he laughed and said, “Falafel in Haifa? You never eat falafel in Haifa! You got food poisoning, buddy.” Then he went back to bed, and I passed out.

On the bus south the next day (I assume the guys carried me onto the bus, I don’t remember), I wasn’t feeling any better and felt another round of symptoms coming on. I dragged myself up to the driver (obviously a former IDF pilot in light of his attempts to keep the bus airborne as it careened along the road), and told him we needed to make a bathroom stop. No, he said. I tried arguing, then pleading. He pointed up ahead. “You see that town? That’s Qalqilya, that’s where the PLO gets most of its recruits. We do not stop.”

“But I had falafel in Haifa.”

He looked at me, looked at the road, and pulled over.

Sometime later (after Massapequa ate the box lunch I couldn’t touch and the Russian asked off-handedly if I was going to die), we landed in Arad, a desert town that was Israel’s first planned city. A walking tour under the hot sun did not improve my condition, and as the rest of my group and a large party of snapshot-taking Japanese tourists listened to a speech by the mayor in the town gymnasium, I was busy in the bathroom just off the bleachers. When I felt up to it, I came out to rejoin my group and found a hundred people looking at me, including the mayor. Evidently, I wasn’t as quiet as I might have hoped.

“I had falafel in Haifa,” I explained – and it seemed like everyone there nodded in understanding. I sat down, and the speech resumed. Was I the only person in the world who didn’t know not to eat falafel in Haifa?

My memory of the rest of the trip is not clear. The symptoms slowly subsided, but now I was suffering from severe dehydration. On the plane home, Massapequa kindly encouraged me to drink while the Russian wanted to know if in my worst moments I’d seen a bright light and a robed man. I thought about that – not the bright light and the robed man – but about dying.

I realized if I’d eaten those two fallen falafel balls back on the sidewalk in Haifa, I’d probably be dead now. What seemed like a stroke of bad luck at the time was in fact a stroke of good luck. Since we were talking about my life, though, it was hard to ascribe my continued existence to something called “luck.” The fall of the falafel balls was a blow at the time, a minor mishap in retrospect, but now it loomed large as the Reason I Was Alive. For the first time, I thought it was possible to see life as an interconnected web of incidents and causation, and the world as a place where things happened for a reason. Hashgachah pratis.

So, perhaps the trip was a success after all. Judaism argues that the universe is not a random place, that things do indeed happen for a reason, and that given this we have certain responsibilities. This wasn’t some philosophical argument – this was something that actually happened to me! Such a thing had never occurred to me before, and I was fascinated by what it might entail.

Visitor Comments: 34

Your article made me laugh so hard. I look forward to reading more stories of yours. Such a comic way to see and describe tragedy is very enriching.

(26)
Anonymous,
January 17, 2013 10:00 AM

falafel is good now

the lessons learned were very true but i have been living in haifa for a few years now and the falafel is pretty good.

(25)
brett,
January 16, 2013 6:41 PM

purim

This story could be told at Purim! Its certainly relatable and engaging. God's script for our lives is in the details. He perserves us for His good purpose in ways that we see clearly in hindsight. So Bless Israel, the world keeps on trying to make her eat "poision falafel". It is sickening but God will perserve her!
To Life!

(24)
Ben Rothke,
January 16, 2013 6:00 PM

Great article

Eric - I loved the article. But tell me, was worth eating falafel in Haifa?

(23)
Gemma,
January 16, 2013 3:41 PM

This was so funny

A hilarious article. Thanks for writing it. I'm glad you're ok now, even if some trauma still remains.

(22)
Jonathan,
January 16, 2013 2:25 AM

same thing happened to wife

So TRUE!!!
my first trip to Israel was a disaster.I had two falafels from a street vendor and from then on i forgot i was in Israel

(21)
Eric Brand,
January 16, 2013 2:07 AM

Setting the Record Straight

Just want to point out that every event in this story is true, just the way it happened. But it took place many years ago, so perhaps it's safe to go back to Haifa for felafel. After you, of course.

(20)
Jeannie,
January 15, 2013 3:03 PM

life lessons

I never knew that story. But spent last night "allergic" to something. This article is about the ONLY thing that could make me smile today. From now on,falefel in Haifa, will be family code for life lesson learned!

(19)
Eli (from Haifa),
January 15, 2013 11:20 AM

Funny but untrue generalization.

Some of the best falafel in Israel can be found in Haifa (kosher lemehadrin,clean and healthy)

jason,
January 15, 2013 11:45 AM

this happened to the author many years ago

cut the author some slack people, it's a very funny article, and 20 yrs who knows - maybe street vendor felafels in Haifa WERE really gross!

(18)
Doofus,
January 15, 2013 5:32 AM

not much

I once ate a falafal in Haifa and I died soon after.

Deena,
January 15, 2013 1:52 PM

a riot

Your comment is so funny. I laughed for five minutes straight and am still laughing. (going on 10 minutes).

Anonymous,
January 17, 2013 8:10 PM

LOL! that bad?

(17)
Anonymous,
January 14, 2013 11:56 PM

Well-written but wrong to slander all of Haifa

I grew up spending every summer of my life in Haifa and had countless delicious falafels. This was well-written but it's wrong to slander an entire city with hundreds of great falafel joints cuz u had a bad one. This is NOT a "thing" that everyone knows- never ever heard or experienced a problem so think twice before giving a whole city a bad rep.

Lisa,
January 17, 2013 11:30 AM

lighten up !!!!!

go have a falafel & a good laugh with this article!!! Not everything is politics!!

I'll remember this when I go to Israel this summer .... no Falafels in Haifa.

Anonymous,
January 14, 2013 5:56 PM

Not just Haifa
I just had the same thing happen to me inJerusalem
Woe it was hell. Don't eat any falafel in Israel at all except Maybe in a quality restaurant

(14)
Sander Postol,
January 14, 2013 6:58 AM

Sympathy...

But I have eaten Felafel in Jerusalem on many occasions. I just get gas.

(13)
Shlomo,
January 14, 2013 4:17 AM

Sounds like a Seinfeld episode

Well written!
Well interpreted!
We don't always get to see the hashgacha but it's always there!

(12)
aharon,
January 13, 2013 11:58 PM

just returned from three months in Haifa where i consumed falafel at least once per week and no problem except the desire for more.

(11)
Mikey,
January 13, 2013 9:44 PM

How dare you!

Falafel from Haifa is the best!

(10)
Slapshot,
January 13, 2013 8:26 PM

Maybe it was the street vendor

Interesting story. I did my first year of college in Israel in 1977-78. I remember taking a brief weekend trip to Haifa. There was one street in Haifa, where I swear they must have had 50 falafel stores/restaurants, one next to the other. The falafel there was out of this world. None of the people who accompanied me came down with symptoms. I have to believe that it was probably your street vendor who had less than sanitary conditions. Even in NYC, street vendors aren't always the safest bet. There's no regulation and monitoring.

(9)
Annie,
January 13, 2013 7:27 PM

THE FIVE SECOND RULE IS AN URBAN MYTH !!!

The five/ten second rule is a complete myth-don't believe it ! If there are bugs on the floor, they are not sporting enough to give you five seconds before they jump aboard. Think about what's ON the floor and what's been there. Blechhh. But seriously, the five/ten second rule is a complete crock.

(8)
David,
January 13, 2013 6:56 PM

Food Libel

I eat falafel in Haifa all the time, and I’ve never had a problem.

(7)
marc,
January 13, 2013 6:51 PM

next time in Haifa, ask locals where to eat falafel

I lived in Haifa, and return to it about once a year or so, to visit my brother, and I do make it a point to eat falafel at least once during each trip to Israel. Falafel is not the hot item in Israel that it used to be (there are new fades all the time). So we try to find the current super falafel place of the day. So here is my advice to you;.
next time in Haifa, ask locals where to eat falafel.
Marc

(6)
Dvirah,
January 13, 2013 6:16 PM

Street Food

I live in Haifa and somewhat resent the slur on my town, but one does need to be wary of buying anything, not just falafel, from street vendors anywhere in Israel. Good falafel (and other food) is available in Haifa, if you know where to look.

(5)
Hal,
January 13, 2013 6:16 PM

Informative

(4)
Melissa,
January 13, 2013 6:10 PM

Fantastic

Besides being an absolute joy to read, what a great well delieverd message.

(3)
goldy,
January 13, 2013 5:09 PM

Profound lesson in a laugh-out-loud article. I hope to get to enjoy more of your writing because it is great!

(2)
Grace,
January 13, 2013 4:25 PM

No complaints

I've never heard "don't eat falafel in Haifa" so strange because I lived there well over a year, ate many falafel that were delicious and with no stomach complaints. In fact I have only one complaint. I ate way too many falafel in Haifa before discovering that the Shwarma is actually the best in the world!

(1)
Shraga,
January 13, 2013 2:11 PM

LOL -- great article

Hmmm... I've eaten that same "Haifa falafel" all over the world!

Nirit,
January 13, 2013 6:29 PM

same thing happened to hubby!

While in Haifa in 2009, my husband, Norm, and I ate what we thought was the best alafel in the world. Then the stomach pains began...I was fine, but I had to get some stomach medication for him and we missed a dinner engagement. It was pretty bad!

I'm told that it's a mitzvah to become intoxicated on Purim. This puzzles me, because to my understanding, it is not considered a good thing to become intoxicated, period.

One of the characteristics of the at-risk youth is their use of drugs, including alcohol. In my experience, getting drunk doesn't reveal secrets. It makes people act stupid and irresponsible, doing things they would never do if they were sober. Also, I know a lot about the horrible health effects of abusing alcohol, because I work at a research center that focuses on addiction and substance abuse.

Also, I am an alcoholic, which means that if I drink, very bad things happen. I have not had a drink in 22 years, and I have no intention of starting now. Surely there must be instances where a person is excused from the obligation to drink. I don't see how Judaism could ever promote the idea of getting drunk. It just doesn't seem right.

The Aish Rabbi Replies:

Putting aside for a moment all the spiritual and philosophical reasons for getting drunk on Purim, this remains an issue of common sense. Of course, teenagers should be warned of the dangers of acute alcohol ingestion. Of course, nobody should drink and drive. Of course, nobody should become so drunk to the point of negligence in performing mitzvot. And of course, a recovering alcoholic should not partake of alcohol on Purim.

Indeed, the Code of Jewish Law explicitly says that if one suspects the drinking may affect him negatively, then he should NOT drink.

Getting drunk on Purim is actually one of the most difficult mitzvot to do correctly. A person should only drink if it will lead to positive spiritual results - e.g. under the loosening affect of the alcohol, greater awareness will surface of the love for God and Torah found deep in the heart. (Perhaps if we were on a higher spiritual level, we wouldn't need to get drunk!)

Yet the Talmud still speaks of an obligation on Purim of "not knowing the difference between Blessed is Mordechai and Cursed is Haman." How then should a person who doesn't drink get the point of “not knowing”? Simple - just go to sleep! (Rama - OC 695:2)

All this applies to individuals. But the question remains - does drinking on Purim adversely affect the collective social health of the Jewish community?

The aversion to alcoholism is engrained into Jewish consciousness from a number of Biblical and Talmudic sources. There are the rebuking words of prophets - Isaiah 28:1, Hosea 3:1 with Rashi, and Amos 6:6, and the Zohar says that "The wicked stray after wine" (Midrash Ne'alam Parshat Vayera).

It is well known that the rate of alcoholism among Jews has historically been very low. Numerous medical, psychological and sociological studies have confirmed this. The connection between Judaism and sobriety is so evident, that the following conversation is reported by Lawrence Kelemen in "Permission to Receive":

When Dr. Mark Keller, editor of the Quarterly Journal of Studies on Alcohol, commented that "practically all Jews do drink, and yet all the world knows that Jews hardly ever become alcoholics," his colleague, Dr. Howard Haggard, director of Yale's Laboratory of Applied Physiology, jokingly proposed converting alcoholics to the Jewish religion in order to immerse them in a culture with healthy attitudes toward drinking!

Perhaps we could suggest that it is precisely because of the use of alcohol in traditional ceremonies (Kiddush, Bris, Purim, etc.), that Jews experience such low rates of alcoholism. This ceremonial usage may actually act like an inoculation - i.e. injecting a safe amount that keeps the disease away.

Of course, as we said earlier, all this needs to be monitored with good common sense. Yet in my personal experience - having been in the company of Torah scholars who were totally drunk on Purim - they acted with extreme gentleness and joy. Amid the Jewish songs and beautiful words of Torah, every year the event is, for me, very special.

Adar 12 marks the dedication of Herod's renovations on the second Holy Temple in Jerusalem in 11 BCE. Herod was king of Judea in the first century BCE who constructed grand projects like the fortresses at Masada and Herodium, the city of Caesarea, and fortifications around the old city of Jerusalem. The most ambitious of Herod's projects was the re-building of the Temple, which was in disrepair after standing over 300 years. Herod's renovations included a huge man-made platform that remains today the largest man-made platform in the world. It took 10,000 men 10 years just to build the retaining walls around the Temple Mount; the Western Wall that we know today is part of that retaining wall. The Temple itself was a phenomenal site, covered in gold and marble. As the Talmud says, "He who has not seen Herod's building, has never in his life seen a truly grand building."

Some people gauge the value of themselves by what they own. But in reality, the entire concept of ownership of possessions is based on an illusion. When you obtain a material object, it does not become part of you. Ownership is merely your right to use specific objects whenever you wish.

How unfortunate is the person who has an ambition to cleave to something impossible to cleave to! Such a person will not obtain what he desires and will experience suffering.

Fortunate is the person whose ambition it is to acquire personal growth that is independent of external factors. Such a person will lead a happy and rewarding life.

With exercising patience you could have saved yourself 400 zuzim (Berachos 20a).

This Talmudic proverb arose from a case where someone was fined 400 zuzim because he acted in undue haste and insulted some one.

I was once pulling into a parking lot. Since I was a bit late for an important appointment, I was terribly annoyed that the lead car in the procession was creeping at a snail's pace. The driver immediately in front of me was showing his impatience by sounding his horn. In my aggravation, I wanted to join him, but I saw no real purpose in adding to the cacophony.

When the lead driver finally pulled into a parking space, I saw a wheelchair symbol on his rear license plate. He was handicapped and was obviously in need of the nearest parking space. I felt bad that I had harbored such hostile feelings about him, but was gratified that I had not sounded my horn, because then I would really have felt guilty for my lack of consideration.

This incident has helped me to delay my reactions to other frustrating situations until I have more time to evaluate all the circumstances. My motives do not stem from lofty principles, but from my desire to avoid having to feel guilt and remorse for having been foolish or inconsiderate.

Today I shall...

try to withhold impulsive reaction, bearing in mind that a hasty act performed without full knowledge of all the circumstances may cause me much distress.

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